


everything will be okay, i'm here

by lieyuu



Series: a softer world [ i ship dream smp and happiness ] [1]
Category: Dream SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Character Study, Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF) Loves His Friends, Clay | Dream-centric (Video Blogging RPF), Deity Clay | Dream (Video Blogging RPF), Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Realistic Minecraft, i wrote three tags and ran out of ideas, okay yeah honestly that's all i got it's a really short story so there's not much ot it, that is also not a tag but you know what it should be, thats not canonized?? wtf
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-09
Updated: 2020-12-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27980880
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lieyuu/pseuds/lieyuu
Summary: [ i woke shaking from a dream where she died in that desert, and you held me and said, “i’m here,” which wasn’t good enough. ]A boy walks into the forest, and a god walks out.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound & Sapnap (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: a softer world [ i ship dream smp and happiness ] [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2042497
Comments: 21
Kudos: 131





	everything will be okay, i'm here

**Author's Note:**

> (re: current smp tommy arc) *me voice* ugh dream you are making it so fucking hard to be a dream apologist can you NOT i am TRYING to SIMP FOR YOU
> 
> anyways. some _a softer world_ continuity. title taken from [this strip](https://www.asofterworld.com/index.php?id=140). this is basically just some smp!dream character study
> 
> archive locked for a reason; do not send this fic to the content creators, recommend it to the content creators, or otherwise make them aware of it. thank you for respecting both my and their boundaries.

A boy walks into the forest, and a god walks out.

They look more or less the same, and they talk more or less the same, and they move more or less the same. They share the same name - Dream - and are built from the same stuff, secret wishes and sharpened blades. Somehow, still, they are impossibly separate from each other.

A boy walks into the forest; the god who leaves it carries him in the cavern between their ribs and their liver, the liminal spaces of the human body. Each step they take away from the forest is another step that shakes the boy loose, sprinkles him into their organs like salt on steak. They leave the forest, and they are _him,_ boy god and god boy, the lines of each other blurring and melting and becoming.

There is a soft burning, beneath it all, beneath the one confused mind. Two spirits, fractured and angry - they fight and they _burn._ The mind does not see it, nor understand it. A flick of the wrist, a simple command. The easiest way to stay under control is to control everything _._

Dream walks into the forest, and it asks him, “Do you want to be a god?”

He startles and flinches, looking around like he might find his friends teasing behind the trees. “Who’s there?” he calls, uncharacteristically wary for the boy who spends his free time having an ever-growing number of hunters chase him down, as a _game._

The voice hums and grows closer, but its owner doesn’t appear. “Do you want to be a god?” it asks again. 

Dream hefts his sword higher and looks around. The cuffs of his sleeves are fraying; if he notices, he doesn’t let on. “... No, not particularly,” he says after another moment. The sunlight catches his blade. 

“Shame,” the voice says. Bored or unimpressed or both. “Would you let your friends become gods?”

“What would be the price?” Dream asks, and chuckles to himself. He’s talking to a disembodied voice in the middle of a forest asking if he wants to be a god. There’s nothing normal about this situation; it’s funny, in a weird way.

The voice hums again. “Who says there’d be a price?”

“There’s always a price, ” Dream says, as a breeze plays with his hair like it's a game. He turns round and round, looking in circles about him. The voice chuckles like it’s amused. 

“Clever boy,” it says, almost proud. “Would you let your friends become gods? It’s an awful lot of responsibility, don’t you know?”

“If they wanted to be,” Dream says. “If you let them say no.”

“Of course I would,” the voice says. “Many people have turned me down. I’ve been searching for years, for a god. Every good thing has one.”

“Sure,” Dream scoffs, but he sheaths his sword and puts it away, settling for a few potions in hand. “Every good thing.”

“Of course,” the voice says again, smooth and silky and conniving. “You love your friends, yes? There’s a god in there - newborn, more demi- than god. But there is a god there. And there’s a god in the doorways between worlds, and there’s a god in the way the wind whispers between autumn leaves. There are gods in all good things, Dream. Wouldn’t you like to be one?”

There’s a pause, long and heavy. Then Dream says, “Alright. But not for you or for your ‘good things’. You said it first. I love my friends, and I’m not going to let them try and take this on instead.”

“Whatever you’d like to believe, dear,” is the response, and then the boy becomes a pillar of salt in a god’s chest and something in the air screams and a single leaf falls from the branch above. 

They walk out the forest, transfixed by that one leaf blown out by the wind. Something shimmers oddly in the air, and the chatter of forest creatures who call him _young god_ grows ever louder, until they all fall silent all at once.

 _Young god_ has exited the forest. “Dream!” someone shouts, and he looks up dazedly at two boys in iron armor rushing towards him. He looks down towards his hands, flexes them and turns them around and around and lets the skin resettle. “Where have you _been?_ ”

“I went exploring,” Dream shrugs - even this movement is, for a moment, foreign, but then it settles and his friend rolls his eyes and the world is fine and alright again. “Didn’t find much. Great for camp, but _boring._ ”

“Well,” says one of his friends, elbowing the other in the side. “George and I were thinking. We might as well go for the netherite armor now. What’s the worst that’ll happen? A respawn or two? Unless, of course, you’re scared.”

Dream looks down at his palm again and feels more than sees the glow to it. His friends squint at him and nudge each other, but he doesn’t notice their confusion. “Sure,” he says lightly, shoving his hand into his pocket and looking up at them again, smiling widely and genuinely. He made his decision for a reason, after all. “I think we can take on the Nether now - c’mon, what can it possibly do to little old me?”

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos much appreciated; stay safe, everyone!


End file.
